


Ice Cold

by Electrikatty



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Crying, Depression, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-04-06 17:33:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19067353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Electrikatty/pseuds/Electrikatty
Summary: Patton feels empty, and Virgil tries his best.





	Ice Cold

**Author's Note:**

> Heed the tags, friends. I was having a rough day and decided to project onto Patton. Stay safe, you're loved.

It started when Patton woke up. Or really, when he kept waking up.

He was waiting for an important email that would decide whether he got a job or not. It was the first job on the path to his dream career. Because of this, he woke up every thirty minutes or so, more dozing in and out of awareness. He was so nervous he couldn’t get any extra rest no matter how exhausted he was. He got fed up around eleven and decided to get up.

Getting up meant lying in bed on his phone for an hour and feeling sorry for himself.

He was in a mood, a funk. He hated this, waking up and the day was already set out to be horrible. He was frustrated that regardless of trying to take care of himself, go to therapy, stop constantly putting others before himself, etc, etc he still could wake up and feel like shit.

He scrolled mindlessly through social media feeds and tapped through a few games. It was after he colored his second picture without being aware that his stomach rumbled. He noticed an hour had passed and he hated himself.

After a few minutes of mental-chastising, Patton managed to get up and slip his feet into his slippers. He didn’t want to eat, but he knew that making it through a reluctant meal would make himself feel better. It’d prove that he could do something even if he felt worthless.

His comforter was coming with him though.

He made it into the kitchen. He opened the fridge, stared, and closed it. He opened the freezer, stared, and shut it. Pantry opened, paused, and shut.

After opening the fridge a third time he finally felt his frustration bubbling. He groaned, which more just came out as a huff of hot air, and wanted to kick the fridge door slammed shut. He settled for pushing it closed a little roughly. He stood back, clutching at his blanket, and zoned out some more. It seemed to be all he could do, zone out. Trap himself in his own mind to remind himself how dumb he was. Nothing was happening, why are you upset, you baby? You’re just faking it for attention, you attention-whore. Stop acting! Snap out of it!

When he finally freed himself from his mental labyrinth, he found his desires had grown dangerous. He no longer hungered for food, but for pain. He felt a need for release.

Patton felt panic simmering deep in his mind, but he mostly couldn’t find it in himself to care. Screw it.

He opened the utensil drawer and found it empty of knives. He cursed under his breath.

Then he surfaced what his last bit of sense was nagging at him. After admitting these thoughts and actions to his therapist, he gave a tip. Hold an ice cube. He suggested that if he was afraid of looking weird to his roommates, he could say he was too warm and wanted to cool down. It _was_ summer. Patton reassured Dr. Picani that he was already odd, and could just say he wanted to and his roommates would laugh a little and go about their day.

Sure enough, when Logan and Roman caught him doing this and he grew scared, he answered their question with “I just wanted to,” and they chuckled and walked away.

He never let Virgil catch him though.

He knew better than to reveal this tip to him because he would know. Virgil had his own share of mental health problems, and being a psychology major added to that knowledge. He would know immediately, and everything he had worked so hard to build up would come crumbling down in an instant.

He couldn’t afford for that to happen.

He opened the freezer, grabbed a cube from the ice tray, and closed the door. He stood there…

And he cried.

The cold stinging his palm brought some senses back to him, and with that, emotion followed soon after. The emptiness let up just enough to make him feel just how miserable he felt.

As he stood quietly sobbing to himself, hugging a melting piece of ice to his chest, he heard a door open. Patton startled. He now had only one thought.

Hide.

There wasn’t much place to hide in the kitchen, so he settled for sitting in a corner and hoping whoever was walking around wouldn’t come to get food. He curled himself into his blanket, hoping it would swallow him up and he would just disappear.

“Patton?”

He choked on a sob.

Of course, it was Virgil who found him, he thought. How could he forget that he was home? Logan was in a class and Roman was at practice. Virgil was always home this day of the week. Stupid. Idiot. Dumbass.

“Patton,” Virgil said again, sounding much closer.

Patton whined quietly.

“Can you come out? You’ll suffocate in there,” he tried good-naturedly.

Good, Patton thought.

Virgil sighed mutedly and tried a different tactic, “Can I see you? I want to help, and I’m worried about you.”

Patton shook. “Why?” he mumbled, still under the comforter.

Virgil smiled and set his hand on top of where he guessed Patton’s head was. “Because you’re one of my best friends. I care about you, and I want to try and make this better as much as I can.”

Patton let out a stuttering breath. “I’m fine. I just-”

“Please.”

Slowly, Patton pulled the blanket off of his head and let it drape lazily on his shoulders. Virgil’s eyes welled up at the sight of his friend.

Patton was shaking, face and eyes red with tears flowing. He refused to make eye contact with Virgil, as if out of shame. Definitely out of shame. What really stuck out to him, though, was his hands. They were cradled close to his heart, pink, and leaking water. His shirt was also notably wet too behind and under his hands.

“Patton, can I see what your holding?” he asked carefully.

He closed his eyes and shrunk back a little.

“You don’t have to, but-”

Patton’s hands slowly uncurled, and he presented what he was holding.

A melting cube of ice.

Virgil held back a sob. “Oh, Patt.”

“I’m sorry, Virgil,” Patton cried, eyes still shut tight and hands shaking from both fear and the cold.

Virgil scooped the remains of the ice out of his hands and tossed it into the sink. He then grabbed a part of the blanket on either side of him and dapped away the remaining water left on him, holding back an apology for getting it wet. He didn’t want to step away to get a towel. He ignored Patton’s quiet hiss of pain.

Finally, he took Patton’s hands in his own.

God, they were so cold.

There was so much he wanted to say: ask about why he was using this tactic to avoid hurting himself, why he even knew about it, why he didn’t ask for help. He wanted to say so much, but he couldn’t form the words.

“You’re gonna be ok,” he settled for.

Patton finally looked Virgil in the eyes and sobbed anew. Virgil held him tight.

He would try his damn best to remind Patton he was never alone.


End file.
